Portable Nonsense

Man. Confused. Little.

I miss the taste of blood,
the rage is gone but the fists clench still.

I miss the chaos and fury,
all my enemies have forgiven me.

I have the taste of you,
my mind wanders to other tastes I’ve not.

I have the quiet and the comfort,
there are matches in the kitchen.

All my enemies have forgiven me,
but I haven’t forgiven you.

All my enemies have forgiven me,
but I can always make more.